i am full
no
i am whole
i’ve always been whole
i just sat myself down
at the wrong table
i was hungry
no
i was starved
you served hot air
and boiled lies
i added spice
running fingers
through straight plate lines
of drizzled down salt
(someone else’s tears,
crystallized)
i drank all the water
and folded my napkin
an unused swan
taking shape
on the grey chipped platter
of sweet stale tender
and timeworn
overused
coin
…
i am the leaves
that skitter on pavement
touching toe and ankle
bare and boot
and you don’t listen
to the crackle of my skin
or bear witness
to the whisper
of my decay
i feed you anyway
i am the crow
robbing blue eggs
black circling sound
from the ring
on the right-hand finger
of fortune
and you
cannot reach
the beak that bites you
i feed you anyway
i am the seeds
buried ripe beneath rows
cold arrows of root
reaching deep
through tall darkness
as you nibble buds
in the light drowning rain
of hypocrisy’s
overdrawn bloom
i feed you anyway
…
i’ve burned through all the memories
walked through fire
sifted ash
blackened fingers drawing hieroglyphs
to guide me through the grief that buries living
i light candles at dawn and bonfires at dusk
build a fortress of flame
and sleep on embers
i’ve been phoenix so many times
my house is strewn with feathers
(ankle-deep and sharp as quills)
i’ve put you out and opened windows
always feeding the desire to breathe
(which i think is the same as freedom)
i remember the night i woke in terror at the blanket of smoke swirling over my bed
i remember the way i laughed later, when it turned out to be a dream
i remember the way it still feels entirely exactly undeniably
real
truth always finds a way to be revealed
and here we are
again
endings and beginnings
blooming full
in the light of forgotten
darkness is the edge
our eye is drawn to
bleakblank horizon
lined with trees
and trepidation
the air filled
with hope’s perfume
as if anyone could hold
the scent
of silence
on a morning
carved by will
and blind resilience
into something
resembling peace
or patterned joy
dancing shadows
on the wall
of blanket rhyme
and repetition
. . .
planting a seed
is the purest form of hope
gathering bits
of wither and dry
just to bury them again
in deep dark places
this is also magic
or miracle
witchever you prefer
a garden never fails
to ground you
embrace you
in its heartless
beautiful mess
if you listen
roots are always
whispering
history and herstory
running deep beneath hard beds
of mud and promise
sun and storm
harsh wind and captured
lightning
and you
determine
nothing
watch time float by
on the whisper of living
breathe in blue sky
and never exhale
light the candle
of forgiveness
and forget to blow it out
speak the song
of the silenced
or rather, start to sing
watch a heron
kiss the water
in a solitude of sunshine
stand taller
than the mountain
you just climbed
ride the train of broken tears
that barrels down
each side
embrace the clouds
that hover close
to the places you last cried
.
give it all away
.
and watch time
float by
on the whisper
of living
…
the avenue where
you ate the last fish
as it held your lost stare
(contemplation’s false glare)
and the dark apple
current
pulling luck under
in the back row seat
of certainty’s corner
we fed our fill
on the silence of empty
and burnished long scars
still shiny with memory
until sky led to sea
in the bed that was always
losing its way
we reached for warm hands
over-stuffed
with the blind weight
of grief
grasping for sand
as it spilled down
clean sheets
and returned to the water
salt bled us
…
eating nothing
but these hours
that devour
and the
black hole distance
between full
and fortified
in the night sky
lost eye
feast
of raw
subsistence
…
scarred scared and disrepaired
the tagline of last soldiers
loss holders
heart boulders
we are the collection
of collectors
gathering bones and
burying stones
building cairns
in bare memory
corners
and backing away
ever so gently
despite the premise promise
of tumble
and tremor
. . .
and deep dark
late night lists
of the ways we are all
just a little bit
broken
and the revelation
that all we can do
is open our arms
our minds
our fear closed
scared scarred
sacred
hearts
and face the sun
one more time
one more day
one more moment
today
today
today
and love
that’s
all there is
ever
not forever
just this
minefield mountain
of now
the present
of presence
and these shard blue
sheltering smithereens
of moving sky
…
